


Room and Time Enough (Desert)

by kettish



Series: Biomes [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Whats the fancy word for hand jobs?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan escort a team of archaeologists to their dig site on a potentially volatile planet. In their downtime, they finally discuss what they want regarding their relationship.





	Room and Time Enough (Desert)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to merry_amelie and punsbulletsandpointythings for doing excellent beta work! As always, this story would only be half as good without their finetuning. I fussed with it a little after they made their corrections so any remaining mistakes are my own.

Cantonica was unreasonably hot, Obi-Wan decided. The sun beat down mercilessly, uncaring of the team of Jedi that rode speeder bikes across the planet surface below. Four of them rode in profile, side-by-side to avoid the sand the bikes kicked up, and two ranged back and forth around them, constantly on guard for snipers that were supposedly lurking among the dunes. 

 

They had long passed the steep canyon walls and packed-earth of the steppes and entered the sea of dunes that stretched as far as they could see. They were no longer afforded any relief in the form of the shade of plateaus and rock formations. The air whipping past their faces stripped them of moisture, cracking their lips and noses and welting any uncovered skin. Obi-Wan’s world had long narrowed down to the feel of the speeder bike beneath him and pushing forward towards their goal. He sipped water from the nozzle at his collar, which ran down and back to a bladder tucked against his back. It refreshed him, and he looked around, checking for raiders again.

 

The political situation on Cantonica was unstable as two coalitions of nations fought over the little water that was available. Here, far away from water sources, they should be safe, but had been warned that both sides were likely to shoot first and ask questions later. He and Qui-Gon were riding escort for a team of Jedi archaeologists that was here to investigate reports of a long-lost Jedi temple.

 

A geologist from Cantonica had contacted the Jedi Temple, making his way past a communications blackout to tell the Jedi that he'd found something amazing. The geologist had been out in the desert looking for possible underground water sources, when a giant windstorm had swept sand away from a large building that matched old historical records and was identified as a Jedi monastery. The Cantonican scientific community (under pressure from various governments) had threatened to pull the geologist’s funding, but the Jedi Temple had contacted the government head of where the site was located with copious praise for the man's efforts. The government was well pleased to have done the Order a favor, perceiving it as a claim they could call in later. The scientific community had no choice but to cooperate with the Temple archaeology department, and so the original geologist’s studies continued unhampered.

 

As it wasn’t the local geologist’s area of study, he hadn’t been able to tell them more than where it was located, and that he’d recognized an old Jedi Order emblem from his early studies obtaining his certification. It matched the Temple’s records, so a team had been dispatched to investigate.

 

The waves of heat and sunlight on the horizon broke up in one spot, a dark smudge in the haze. A reptilian-snouted scientist raised a pair of binoculars to take a look, red-scaled skin and claws unaffected by the hot wind. He waved exuberantly to the rest of them when he realized what he was seeing, shouting something over the rushing wind and pointing, and all of them headed in the direction he’d indicated.

 

A short tower rolled into view, disappearing and reappearing as they traversed dunes. The Jedi all slowed, then came to a full stop, choosing as one to park their speeder bikes in the small shade the tower cast in the afternoon sun. Qui-Gon dismounted, along with some of the scientists, while Obi-Wan and the rest stayed seated and drank water. 

 

“This doesn’t look large enough to be a monastery,” Obi-Wan croaked after he finally climbed down. He coughed, then sipped more water. Embarrassing. “Is part of it still buried?”

 

“Quite a bit of it,” Knight Ho-tahn Geli replied, shaking the sand out of her burnoose and auburn hair. “Early reports by its discoverer indicate this may be as little as a twentieth of it, or as much as a fifth. I’ll have to do more thorough sounding in the area--it looked like he didn’t get a lot of time to look. Yech, I’ve got sand in my nose.”

 

Knight Kanast Pequin, a Kajain'sa'Nikto whose subspecies evolved in a desert, laughed at the comment, hissing and his mouth-flaps pressing flat in his equivalent of a smile. 

 

“You humans are not meant for this place,” he said sibilantly when he was done. Ho-tahn rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. “This is a place for Nikto like myself or other desert-dwellers.”

 

“And yet, we persist,” Knight Caleb Semeni said mildly, his blond hair flattened with sweat as he removed his helmet. Obi-Wan grinned at his comment, and Caleb’s tan skin flushed as he looked away. Obi-Wan sighed; the archaeologist was exceptional at his work, and a good Knight, but he was terribly shy around him and Qui-Gon for some reason. 

 

“Alright, come on,” Master La Shey interrupted, brushing off her thin fur. It had been blindingly white in the sun when they started out, but now matched the sand nicely. Obi-Wan decided he’d offer to help brush her out later if she needed assistance; Qui-Gon had a hard enough time with the hair on his head--Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine the difficulty if he had fur. By the way Ho-tahn had been watching her, however, he doubted Master Shey would need him. “Ho-tahn, please see if the structure is steady enough for entry?” 

 

They all set to work, Ho-tahn bringing her instruments to bear and the rest of them spreading out bits of gear on their speeder bike seats to get ready for their own parts. Obi-Wan meandered over to Qui-Gon after it became apparent that he wasn’t needed at the moment.

 

“So we just...stand guard, I suppose?” he asked. Qui-Gon shrugged, broad shoulders making the movement expansive. Sand trickled off his sleeves as he did and he brushed at it with a frown.

 

“I suppose so,” Qui-Gon replied glumly. The lack of anything to do was wearing on him. Usually when they were assigned a mission, it was because their specialty was needed. There was little diplomacy to be done here, no treaties to craft or cease-fires to enact or agreements to iron out. All they were in attendance for was their reputation and their lightsaber skills. 

 

“Alright then,” Obi-Wan said. He dared to lean against Qui-Gon for a moment, enjoying his touch as Qui-Gon leaned back, but the heat made it uncomfortable to maintain and he regretfully stood up straight again. 

 

“La, it looks stable!” Ho-tahn called from partway around the tower where she’d been conducting tests. La perked happily, her fur puffing up, and then stepped back from the tower. She eyed the distance, and shot up in a Force-assisted jump to land on the exposed balcony. Ho-tahn and Caleb cheered before following, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan helped boost Kanast up, who would have been unable to make it otherwise due to his denser body.

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan watched them go, La and Ho-tahn taking point as they descended into the tower, and then they were alone. 

 

“We will have a better view from the balcony,” Qui-Gon noted, “and it will be more defensible should we be ambushed despite our watch. Let’s set up there.” Together he and Obi-Wan unloaded their packs and vaulted up to the balcony, landing heavily with their gear on their backs. The heat was still terrible despite it now being late afternoon, but thanks to the sheer dryness of the climate, it was perhaps twenty degrees cooler in the shade. They could hear occasional speech from the stairwell but it grew fainter as the team moved inwards to explore and soon even that reminder of the others had vanished.

 

“I bet it’s lovely and cool in there,” Obi-Wan said, sighing wistfully. “This is already better, though. I’m glad we won’t need to sleep in the tents, it would have been miserable.”

 

“Quite. Less sand in our sleeping bags,” Qui-Gon agreed, and their conversation petered out. 

 

The next few hours until dusk were spent observing the horizon for raiders and armies. They swapped every hour to keep themselves fresh as much as to keep from being bored to death, and it was a relief when the scientific team resurfaced. Caleb was chattering excitedly about the fact that there was an actual paper-book library there, and Kanast told them in exceedingly pleased tones that they had even found one piece of writing on pressed-reed material that predated paper. It was a very rare find and the whole team was atwitter.

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan napped in the early evening while the scientists worked, taking time to rest inside the door where it was cool and quiet. They pressed up against each other, spooning to share sleeping pads on the hard stone floor. Ho-tahn saw them once as she stepped in to take detailed recordings of the structure's interior, waking Obi-Wan, but she said nothing and indeed gave him a small, fond smile before moving on. Obi-Wan’s tired mind decided that was that and he drifted back to sleep.

 

Once the scientists were all ready to sleep, they woke Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan for the guard shift. The two men stretched, shaking out their limbs, and went back out to the balcony, essentially trading places with the team. It was cool now that the sun had set, and Obi-Wan pulled his cloak tight around himself.

 

“The one good thing about desert worlds,” Qui-Gon murmured, face tilted upwards. Obi-Wan glanced up as well and was transfixed by the brilliant stars, glowing like scattered crystals on velvet of darkest blue. It was breathtaking, and he sat down without a word. Qui-Gon levered himself down beside him, and together they stared up at the night sky.

 

“We seem to pull missions with beautiful skies,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I must say I’m grateful for it.” Qui-Gon smiled and put his hand in Obi-Wan’s, lacing their fingers together.

 

“Rather, you’ve learned to see the beauty in the small things,” he replied. Obi-Wan snorted, gesturing at the sky with his free hand.

 

“Small, you say.” Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and sighed.

 

“I thought I’d finally broken you of that literal streak,” he complained. Obi-Wan chuckled, rubbing his thumb over Qui-Gon’s knuckles.

 

“You’ve never once broken me of anything I didn’t agree to,” Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon snorted again. “You were a good Master, and are a good partner. And…” 

 

“We haven’t discussed what we want to be together, have we?” Qui-Gon mused. Obi-Wan stared up at the stars and contemplated the issue.

 

“What do you want, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” Obi-Wan confessed. Over the dunes came a faint, screaming sound that they recognized as the call of a small nocturnal predator. Neither of them tensed; it wasn’t a threat to anything but small birds. 

 

“We’ve been at each other’s sides for years,” he said after the screaming yips died off. “I can’t imagine a life without you with me in any capacity, and though there are many bonded couples in the Order, I’ve never imagined myself as part of one of them.”

 

“Unsurprising, since I was not bonded, and we were seldom at the Temple for any real stretch of time,” Qui-Gon murmured. Obi-Wan squeezed his hand.

 

“It’s not a judgement,” Obi-Wan said, “I just don’t have a frame of reference--I’ve only ever had short-term relationships with other padawans. What are our options?”

 

“We could continue as we are, as partners with...well, sex,” Qui-Gon replied, lifting Obi-Wan’s hand to inspect it as he spoke. “We could declare ourselves a couple, but without the intention to bond, as some do. That is especially common with younger members.”

 

“Or we could say we are together, and one day hope to bond,” he said. Obi-Wan watched the starlight as it reflected in his eyes, and the faint light glowing against his skin, and couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else. Qui-Gon’s speech had been casual, almost effortless, and yet Obi-Wan felt as though a thread of insecurity wound its way through the words.

 

“I want you with me when we wake,” Obi-Wan said softly. “And when we fall asleep. And when we eat, and when we shower, and every other time I can have you. I’d like to make you that horrible tea you insist is so good, and remind you that it’s awful and that I love you anyway.” Qui-Gon’s eyes closed as Obi-Wan spoke, and Obi-Wan was startled when he saw tears leak out and trail down the older man’s cheeks. “Love, no, don’t--”

 

“Don’t you apologize, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, eyes still closed. His grip on Obi-Wan’s hand was firm, grasping him fiercely, and he used it to suddenly roll on top of Obi-Wan. 

 

“I wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan said with a warm smile up at him. “Can’t with any honesty, anyway.” Qui-Gon laughed, then leaned down to kiss him sweetly.

 

“I would love to hear you complain about my excellent tea every day,” he murmured as he pulled back from Obi-Wan’s lips. Obi-Wan’s smile went even wider, until he was sure he looked like a fool, but he couldn’t help it--this was everything he wanted, and it was in his arms, and happy to be there. 

 

That thought struck him like a blow to the gut. This was happening. Not only was he getting to stay in Qui-Gon’s bed, but Qui-Gon wanted him in his life, wanted him there for as long as he could stay! He lunged up to kiss Qui-Gon again fiercely and was met with equal force as they tasted deeply of each other’s mouths. What had begun slow and sweet turned hot and bright as the sun of this world, and Obi-Wan swore as he realized--

 

“There is sand everywhere,” he complained. Qui-Gon groaned, then grunted a dismissive noise as he rolled his hips against Obi-Wan’s, grinding their firming cocks together delightfully.

 

“It’ll be fine,” he said, concentrating on what he was doing. Obi-Wan scowled. 

 

“No, it won’t,” Obi-Wan said firmly, pushing against Qui-Gon insistently. “I am not getting sand in my ass just because you wanted to have off on a Force-bedamned desert planet. We’re at least washing our hands.” 

 

“Fine,” Qui-Gon groaned, and rolled off Obi-Wan to flop on the ground next to him with a thump. Obi-Wan huffed a laugh and went looking for their water bladders. There wasn’t much left until morning when their temporary moisture vaporators could be harvested, but Obi-Wan felt that this was a justified use of resources. They cleaned their hands carefully while Qui-Gon peppered nips and licks along Obi-Wan’s neck. Finally, Obi-Wan had enough, and spun in Qui-Gon’s grip to face him before pulling him down by the root of his hair and kissing the breath out of him.

 

“You are so impatient!” Obi-Wan griped, muffled since he was busy licking along Qui-Gon’s jaw. “Honestly, Qui, we only took five minutes to--”

 

“It was too long,” Qui-Gon argued, opening Obi-Wan’s belt and trousers as he sucked on his bottom lip. “There are better things to be doing.”

 

“Can’t fault your taste there,” Obi-Wan gasped as Qui-Gon’s rough, cool-wet hand gripped his cock eagerly. “Oh, yes, your hands feel so good!” Qui-Gon kept him distracted for another minute before Obi-Wan could recover sufficiently, but when he did, he returned the favor by yanking down Qui-Gon’s pants as return and thumbing the head of his large cock. 

 

They fell into a rhythm, pumping each other and experimenting with pace, firmness, finesses--Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon had a delightful idea in that he twisted slightly on the upstroke, and Obi-Wan gasped every time Qui-Gon did so. It was divine, with Obi-Wan’s face tucked into Qui-Gon’s neck where he could lick and suck, Qui-Gon’s other large hand moving back and forth to pinch at Obi-Wan’s nipples or fondle his balls.

 

For his part, Obi-Wan did his best: firm on the downstroke, lightly on the upstroke, alternating between just caressing the head and pulling along the entire length. He took special delight in pushing Qui-Gon’s shirt up to lick and suck on his nipples; last time they’d been together, on the sand bar on Ato’Leeyeek, he’d discovered Qui-Gon enjoyed that. His pectoral was well-padded with muscle and absolutely enticing; Obi-Wan reveled in the feel of it. And it gave him something to do with his mouth when, if he hadn’t been afraid to get sand down his throat, he’d probably be on his knees instead of standing.

 

They stood by the vaporator for long minutes, stroking and kissing, before Qui-Gon began to walk Obi-Wan backwards to the wall by the door, where they would be out of immediate sight. It had the added bonus that Qui-Gon could push him up against the stone and nearly surround him, filling Obi-Wan’s senses with his lover. It was deliciously overwhelming, and though Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice down he could hear his panting turn to whining and groaning. Qui-Gon’s groans vibrated deep in his chest so that Obi-Wan felt them as well as heard them, and the rustling of moving cloth and the quiet slapping of skin on skin seemed loud in the cool quiet.

 

Qui-Gon’s movements took on an intensity that told Obi-Wan he was nearing his climax, and he began fucking up into Obi-Wan’s fist faster than Obi-Wan stroked him. It lit a spark in Obi-Wan’s veins to see Qui-Gon like this: striving for climax desperately, almost mindless in this one moment where all that mattered was Obi-Wan’s hand on his cock. He steadied his fist for Qui-Gon to move against and encouraged him to hold Obi-Wan’s arm or waist, then took his own cock into hand and matched Qui-Gon’s rhythm. Qui-Gon pushed one hand up into Obi-Wan’s hair, pulling his face up to kiss him inelegantly, and came into Obi-Wan’s hand with a stuttering hiss. 

 

“Ah,” Obi-Wan gasped, feeling Qui-Gon’s cock pulse in his hand, and he switched hands so that he was stroking his own length with the added slickness of Qui-Gon’s cum. Qui-Gon panted against his neck and then recovered enough to bite down for him, and it pushed Obi-Wan over the edge into his own orgasm. 

 

Once Obi-Wan had stopped moving, Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan’s hand and delicately licked it clean, stopping Obi-Wan’s breath in his throat and making him wish intensely that they were elsewhere, with a generous supply of lube, water, and clean sheets.

 

“One of these days, we’ll be together somewhere with a bed,” he growled. Qui-Gon smiled and looked at him rather heatedly as he finished sucking Obi-Wan’s fingers clean. 

 

“One day,” Qui-Gon agreed. “But then I wouldn’t have such a convenient excuse to lick you clean.” Obi-Wan snickered and pulled a square of fabric free from his belt, which had fallen and was languishing on the ground behind him.

 

“You don’t need an excuse,” he pointed out, wiping the spit off his hand. Qui-Gon’s smoky look cleared into something sweet and pleased at that, the laugh-lines at the sides of his eyes crinkling.

 

“I suppose I don’t,” he agreed, and leaned down to kiss Obi-Wan again. “Or to do that. Is that alright?”

 

“Anytime,” Obi-Wan replied happily. “Literally. I trust you to keep things appropriate.” Qui-Gon’s smile gained a wicked edge that made Obi-Wan regret his statement nearly immediately, but what was done was done, he supposed. It would be a joy to learn this side of his beloved.

 

“Come on, we still have to finish watch,” he said instead. He righted his clothing and then tugged on Qui-Gon’s hand, relishing the freedom to do so whenever he liked. “Hopefully nobody has set up an ambush while we were tossing each other off.” Qui-Gon barked a startled laugh behind him and then clapped a hand over his mouth, and they giggled at each other like lunatics before they each took a side of the tower and and jumped down to patrol.

 

A thorough survey showed that no, nobody had rigged their speeder bikes or set up camp nearby or even so much as been within a hundred meters of their tower. Obi-Wan trekked out to the hundred-meter mark from the site, then counted back in his head the amount of time it had taken and how long he and Qui-Gon had been occupied. He winced, and sent his dismay along to his partner as he walked back.

 

When he was done Obi-Wan jumped back up to the balcony to report in, Qui-Gon having beaten him there, and they nodded to each other. Unspoken but acknowledged was the fact that they shouldn’t run off while on duty again; the scientific team depended on them to be alert, and while nothing had gone wrong this time, the next could prove to be a disaster.

 

It hurt nothing to sit together though and hold hands; pressed close, their thighs touching, Obi-Wan’s head on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. Qui-Gon let his head tip over to rest against Obi-Wan’s after they’d settled, content.

 

“When we get back to the Temple, let’s go out for dinner,” Obi-Wan suggested softly as they watched the dawn approach. As the sun came close to rising it painted the dunes in shades of orange, blood-red, even purple. Together, they watched it  and listened to the Jedi inside the doorway begin to stir. “I’d like to go somewhere with you just because we can.” Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s hair.

 

“I would be honored,” he replied as they stood and got ready to start the new day.

  
  
Later that afternoon, after they had napped again and woken, they received a transmission recalling them to Coruscant for reassignment. The monastery had been marked on all Cantonican governments’ maps as a no-fire zone with remarkable haste, and the liaison to the Temple seemed confident it would be honored. Ho-tahn, Caleb, La, and Kanast waved them off with gratitude for their service and sent them off with extra water for the ride to the spaceport. As they skimmed across the sand on their way back, Obi-Wan daydreamed idly about he and Qui-Gon in civilian clothes at a nice restaurant, maybe with a glass of wine or brandy each. He smiled, and then spent the next unfortunate hour spitting grit out from his teeth.


End file.
